


Bad Trip

by conceptofzero



Series: Trip [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-07
Updated: 2011-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Die knows he's in over his head well before Droog gets the drop on him. He doesn't even know Droog's there until he feels the gun press up against the back of his skull, and that cold terrifying voice just wraps itself around Die's throat and chokes him. "Your little friends best not be inside or they're about to be down one man."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Trip

Die knows he's in over his head well before Droog shows up. He's high as a kite when Crowbar yells at him to get downstairs and the next thing he knows, he's standing guard outside while the rest of the Felt raid one of the Crew's warehouses, trying to do his best to not turn into a paranoid mess.

This is not what he was supposed to be doing tonight. He is not able to keep watch. Time keeps slipping past him when he's not looking, and everything feels too good so his hands are busy feeling his coat instead of gripping his gun, and his mind is like a fish in a stream, slipping here and there and not staying still for just one second. Put all of that together, and Die spends more time focusing on worrying about fucking up than he does on not fucking up.

And that's exactly how Droog gets the drop on him. Die doesn't even know he's there until he feels the gun press up against the back of his skull, and that cold terrifying voice just wraps itself around Die's throat and chokes him. "Your little friends best not be inside or they're about to be down one man."

"Oh god," Die blurts out, going stock still. "Don't kill me, please don't kill me, oh god I don't want to die. I don't want to be here, I wasn't even supposed to be here-"

"Shut up," Droog's a man of few words. Die manages to shut up, trembling as Droog disarms him and then cuffs his hands behind his back. "Get on the ground."

Die immediately drops to his knees, mouth moving again. "Don't kill me. Please, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, I'll do anything, anything at all. Just don't kill me. Please, please don't kill me." His head stays bowed, his body trembling. He doesn't want to die. He'll do anything not to die.

"Shut up," Droog reminds him, that gun staying pointed right at the back of his skull. "You speak when I tell you to speak. Got it?"

"Yes-" Die says and stops. He nods. That seems to satisfy Droog because he finally walks around Die, looking down at him. Die just shakes with fear. His hands keep rubbing at the metal of his cuffs, shocked at how cold they are.

"That's better. Tell me what you're doing here," Droog doesn't have the pistol pointed at Die's head anymore, but he keeps it where Die can see it.

"I'm not supposed to be here. I was supposed to be in my room all night but they made me come with them, and I shouldn't be here, I'm too fucked up to be here, but if I tell Crowbar he'll dump all my stuff again and it took forever to replace it last time-" Die's rambling it cut short when Droog puts the barrel of his gun in Die's mouth and cocks the trigger. He goes mute, staring up at Droog with terror all over his face.

Droog says nothing, just looking down at Die. Seems he's thinking about what Die said. Die stays quiet, but the gun in his mouth is a good reminder to shut the fuck up. It's cold and nasty tasting, and Die drools a little around it, strings of spit slipping out the corners of his mouth.

"You want to live?" Droog finally asks and Die nods. Yes, yes he does. "Then shut up and do as you're told, and you'll make it out alive."

The gun slips out of Die's mouth and Droog wipes it clean on Die's jacket. He trembles with relief, biting his cheeks to keep from thanking Droog. He's going to live. Thank god. His hat falls off his head and he looks down longingly at it. It's okay. He can pick it up later. Because there's going to be a later. He's not going to die.

"Who's in there?" The gun stays where Die can see it, a reminder of who exactly is in control here.

"C-crowbar. Quarters. U-um. Eggs and Biscuits. Cans. Clover," He struggles to remember. He was so high on the way over, he barely paid attention. What if Droog thinks he's lying? Oh god, oh god, if he thinks he's lying, he might shoot Die. "T-that's it-"

"Fin and Trace aren't here?" Droog asks and Die shakes his head no. "Why not?"

"N-not needed. I-it's just. Just a quick mission. Just- searching and then leaving right away. We aren't supposed to be here long. I'm not-" Die shuts his mouth as the gun twitches up towards his face.

Droog glances back at the building, clearly deciding if he believes Die or not. After an agonzing moment, he seems to settle on Die having told the truth. Droog taps the pistol under Die's chin, forcing him to look up. "You do as I say."

"Y-yes," Die nods as quickly as he can. He'll do whatever Droog tells him to. Anything. As long as he stays alive. "Anything."

Droog tucks his pistol away and undoes his belt, and Die's stomach sinks. 'Anything' is unzipped and pulled out of Droog's pants. Die stares at the cock, feeling a panic attack coming on, and feeling his own cock twitch at the sight. Droog's bigger than Die would have guessed. He's also only a few inches away from Die's mouth.

He doesn't even say a word. One hand settles on Die's head, tilting it up to look at him. It's pretty clear what he wants from Die. After a moment of struggling with himself, Die parts his lips and opens his mouth up. Droog steps forward, and slides his cock right inside. He doesn't do a lot at first. He just keeps his cock in Die's mouth, forcing Die to just hold it. The taste is more pleasant than the gun was, and it's quite a bit warmer. He also slowly gets hard, and that's the bit that makes Die's cheeks go red with shame, knowing that it's his mouth that's getting Droog hard. There's only one way out of his situation and that's through cooperation.

So that's what he does. He reluctantly and awkwardly sucks on the dick in his mouth. It's not the best blowjob he's given. Die is far too high to really be able to focus. Mostly he just slobbers on Droog. After a moment or two, Droog takes over, his hand pushing and pulling Die back and forth, forcing Die to bob his head on Droog's cock. He desperately hopes that Quarters and Crowbar don't walk outside right now and discover Die on his knees. He especially hopes that if they do, they don't notice that Die's getting hard sucking on Droog, or that he's not even trying to fight him. He should fight him. Die knows he should. He's just so afraid. But he's always afraid, no matter what, even on the drugs. Why is he so afraid?

Droog pulls Die off his cock and Die gasps, pulling in air he didn't even realize he was in need of. That doesn't bode well. What if he passes out by accident? Maybe Droog will wake him up. Or maybe he won't. A light slap across the face gets Die shaken out of his thoughts and back to reality. "Do a better job. Or I'll shove you against the wall and fuck your face."

"Sorry," Die whispers. He doesn't want that. That sounds painful. He slides his mouth down on Droog's cock, sucking on it all the way down. Die does his best to give Droog a good blowjob. The better he does, the sooner it's over. The sooner it's over, the less chance of anybody seeing Die with a dick in his mouth. The very thought of someone coming out to see him makes Die tremble. No one would ever let him live it down, ever. They would laugh at him, and mock him, and make it clear how much they don't like Die, how much they've never liked him. Die forces himself to work harder to avoid that horrible fate.

He must be doing better because Droog doesn't get pushy. His hand sits on Die's head, but otherwise he just lets Die set the pace of things, which he sets at very fast. He keeps pushing himself further and further down Droog's cock, trying to take in as much as he can physically stand. It's not that bad when he forgets that he's not willingly doing this. Die puts some real effort into this, tongue swirling over the head, sucking hard and flicking his eyes up to meet Droog's. He even moans around it a few times, right up until apparently that's too much and he's yanked off once again. This time his heart flutters while Die gasps a few times, filling his lungs.

Droog stays nothing. His cock just stays there, slick with Die's spit. Die waits, and it becomes unbearable. He can't tell what the time is, or how long he's been waiting, if it's a few seconds or if it's been minutes. Or hours. Time is fucking with him tonight, and so is Droog. "Please," He blurts out, unable to stay shut-up for any period of time. "I'll do it. Just let me do it. Don't tell anyone-"

"Tell them what? That you were eager to do this? Or that you're high?" Droog asks and Die quivers with terror and shame. He knows, oh god oh god, he knows. "Do well enough, and I won't need to mention this to anyone."

"I will, thank you-" Die starts but doesn't finish. Droog shoves him towards his dick and Die slots his mouth on it, beginning to suck again. His hands twist behind his back. He wants to be free, just so he can touch himself. Right now, he's so hard and nobody's touching him, and it's not fair. But then again, he's sucking off the enemy so fair just isn't in the cards today.

He does a good job, even if he has to fight to not be distracted by Droog's strange, smooth skin, and how it feels on his tongue, and all those other disjointed thoughts bubbling in the back of his mind. Die keeps on sucking and licking, and doing whatever he can with his mouth. Droog sets the pace, which is a little fast but he keeps reminding himself that's a good thing. Fast means he finishes sooner- but what is he going to want when he finishes? Will he want Die to swallow? Or to come on his face? He whimpers softly, trying not to think about how it would feel, or taste. The salty taste of precum is already strong in his mouth, overwhelming the last bitter remnants of the pistol. It feels like the taste is alive, crawling around in his mouth, slowly dripping down his throat-

There's a crackling sound, and Die's eyes flicker towards it. There's a radio in his jacket, just out of sight. Spade Slick's voice comes through it, abrasive as ever even through a plastic box, and Die stops dead with fear. "Diamonds, where the fuck are you."

Droog pulls it out of his jacket. His cock thrusts into Die's mouth, making it pretty clear that he's not meant to stop. Die starts sucking again as Droog answers. "On my way to the warehouse."

"What the fuck's taking you so long? You're supposed to get there and report back on what's happening!" Slick snarls through the radio. Droog thrusts into Die's mouth harder, hand tight on Die's head.

"Cops were out. I decided to take the long way around," Droog's so calm, even as his cock is shoving in and out of Die's mouth. Die's kind of astounded, but mostly he's busy sucking. It's amazing how little reaction Droog has. The only reason Die isn't a total mess is because he can barely speak with a cock in his mouth. It's hard to have a meltdown when nobody can hear you doing it. "They want me to come in for questioning. We'd lose the whole evening that way."

"Fuck, fine, but get your ass over there right away! I don't want those green fucks getting into out shit!" Slick's still talking but Die doesn't hear, not really. Droog shoves his shaft down Die's throat without warning, that smooth hard skin of his just sliding in, and Die has to fight not to choke on the dick in his mouth. "What the fuck was that?"

"One moment boss," Droog says, letting go of the button on his radio. Half a second later, Die feels a surge of something white-hot shooting down his throat. Choosing to swallow or not isn't even an option. He fights through his gag reflex and manages to get down most of it before Droog pulls out of Die's mouth and Die retches, coughing and sputtering. He can feel it racing down his throat, too warm and too thick, and he frantically tries to tell Droog this, that he can taste how alive he is. Droog just puts a hand over Die's mouth, shutting him up before responding to Slick. "I've got one of the Felt here. It's Die. They put him on watch."

"I fucking knew it!" Die breathes in through his nose, struggling to get enough air as Slick rants. "See what you can get out of him! We'll get the guns and meet you!"

"Sure. Go in through the back, looks like they're only watching the front," Droog tucks his radio away and takes his hand off Die's mouth, allowing him to breathe. "What are they doing in there?"

"J-just searching. We're supposed to f-find out what's inside and report back," Die willingly tells him. It's too late to shut up now. Especially when he can still taste Droog at the back of his throat. "Please-"

"Shut up," Droog sounds bored, but there's a knife's edge of impatience in his voice. Die shuts up instantly. His arms are still cuffed and there's nothing he wants more than to just rub his cock, at least just once or twice, just to make it stop hurting so much. Well, no. There's nothing he wants more than to be far far away from here, safely back in the Felt mansion, where he could touch himself and everything would be completely fine.

Die tries to stay calm. It doesn't work out too well. He speaks a bit frantically. "I. I did what you asked. I. I did everything. I won't say anything. I'll just leave-"

Droog smacks Die again, hard enough to stun him, and while he's recovering from that, Droog, opens Die's mouth up and slides his cock into it again. His eyes look up at Droog, confused and sad. But he did what he was supposed to.

"You do what I tell you. If you don't, I put a hole in your head," Droog lays down the law, even as he rocks forward into Die's mouth. He's still soft and Die feels confused, but he also sucks on Droog, not wanting another slap. "You don't question what I tell you do do. And you don't. Talk. Back. Understood?"

Die mumbles a yes. He's very incoherent with a dick in his mouth. Droog understand though, and nods to himself with satisfaction. He pulls out of Die's mouth and hauls Die onto his feet. The next thing Die processes, he's being pushed up against the window to the warehouse. Droog's plan is made clear when he reaches around, unbuckling Die's trousers and shoving them down. Die shivers but keeps his mouth shut.

Fingers push into his mouth and he sucks on them, not even needing to be told why. Droog leans in close, speaking right into Die's ear. "I am going to fuck you," He doesn't even finish and Die moans, half with fear, half with want. The fingers slide into his mouth deeper. "I said, I'm going to fuck you. And you will cooperate. You'll keep watch to make sure we aren't interrupted by your friends. And when I am done with you, I'll undo the handcuffs and let you jerk off."

Die whines, awkwardly bucking his hips against the wall of the building. The fingers come out of his mouth and make their way behind him. He's trembling when Droog begins to prep him, teeth clenched together and body nearly shaking with the effort of keeping himself quiet. As Droog adds his third finger, Die knows he won't be able to keep quiet. "Droog-"

"Did I say you could speak?" Droog stretches his fingers and Die's head smacks up against the glass as he makes a pained sound. "Did I?"

"N-n-no, s-sorry," Die spits out, hips jerking as Droog's fingers go in and out. "B-but I. I c-can't keep- keep q-quiet. Ah- I'm sorry-"

Droog's fingers slip out and Die whines again, this time with frustration. Droog's cock brushes up against Die's ass, and then gets positioned properly, his head pushing just slightly up against Die's entrance. Droog's hand – the other hand, the one that wasn't inside of him – comes around the side and shoves into Die's mouth, effectively muffling him. "If you bite me-"

Die nods. Yes, he knows what will happen. Droog takes that moment to push into Die, going rough enough to really hurt. Die howls around the fingers, which do their job well enough. Droog's free hand settles on Die's side, holding him in place while he fucks Die. He's not completely hard, and Die gets to feel Droog's cock swell up inside of him as he gets there. His own dick, now free of his trousers, bobs with each thrust, hard enough to hurt.

Droog is quiet while fucking Die, which is quite a change from Die, who can't manage to shut up. He drools around the fingers in his mouth, moaning and whining and wailing as Droog's cock drives into him. His hands twist in the cuffs and his eyes end up fixed on the inside of the warehouse, watching through the glass as he sees lights moving about, betraying the Felt's position. They're too far away to see Die being fucked like this, or to hear even his muffled moaning, and for that he's thankful. The cool glass presses up against his face and he tries so hard to melt into it, to just fade into the glass and not have to think or feel.

"I should have helped myself to you much earlier." The sound of Droog's voice goes right through Die and he shivers, hips jerking back against Droog's cock. He sinks in deeper, making both him and Die pause for a moment to catch their breaths. The terror of being caught is not enough to get Die's dick to go down, not while he's got Droog this deep inside of him. Droog's sharp teeth graze the side of Die's head, drawing a little blood. "Fucking you would be much less tedious than fighting the Felt."

The fingers slip out of his mouth for a moment, and Die can't help himself, babbling on. "Yes, y-yes of c-course, whatever you w-want. If you w-want that, I'll do that, I'll do anything-"

"Except shut up," His fingers slide down to Die's throat, squeezing it. He starts thrusting, even as Die has trouble breathing. "From now on, when I see you, I expect you to get on your knees. Understood?"

"Yes-" He chokes out, overwhelmed by both the lack of air, and the building pressure in his groin. Die would rub one out against the wall, if only he could. But he's stuck like this, with Droog fucking him at his own pace, his cock too far away from anything to get satisfaction. "I- unders-stand."

"And when I bend you over, you will thank me for it," His breath is hot against Die's skin, his cock pounding into Die. He keens, even with the hand on his throat, nodding his head frantically. It's not enough for Droog, who squeezes tighter. "What will you say?"

"Thh-" Die chokes. He tries to get the word out but he can't. Droog lets up and Die sucks in air, head hitting the windowpan and moaning loudly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-"

It's the right thing to say, because suddenly Droog wraps a hand around Die's cock and strokes him. Die takes no time at all, completely losing his shit just from being touched. He feels Droog place his mouth against the side of Die's throat, and then the sudden painful sensation of teeth digging in makes him howl. It's too loud but Die doesn't care, not when everything just wrenches tight and he can't breathe and he's fucking coming. He throws his head back, accidentally nailing Droog, but he barely feels it under the overwhelming throbbing relief of coming.

Droog curses and Die collapses against him, head lolling to the side. If he hurt Droog, it doesn't show, because Droog just keeps fucking Die like nothing happened. He's hard and quick, pounding into Die in a way that will clearly make him sore tomorrow. Die just lets him, barely staying upright, feeling nothing but a constant soft pleasure that spikes dramatically with each thrust. Maybe with enough of this, he would get hard again, might even come again. He's always had a thing for being fucked roughly, and Droog is very, very rough.

But all things end, and Droog suddenly pulls out of Die, making it clear that it's there. Droog drops Die, who ends up on his knees, blearily looking up at Droog. He watches as Droog wraps a hand around his cock and strokes it, and then his eyes are closing as the first jet of white hits Die in the face. He cries out, getting a little in his mouth, and waits out the rest.

It's only when he hears Droog putting his pants on that Die peeks. His face is splattered with cum, and he's a mess. There's a white splotch on the wall where Die came, and his ass is throbbing with pain and pleasure. He knows he looks like a pathetic mess. He knows he's been beaten. And still, he looks up at Droog and asks. "Was that good enough?"

"It was," Droog casually removes a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, and a lighter from his pocket. He's in no hurry, coaxing out a flame on the first click and bringing it up to the cigarette in his mouth. "For now."

"Please..." Die holds up his arms as high as he can. Droog regards them, digging into his pocket. He pulls out a set of silver keys and drops them on the ground. Die looks at them, and then back up at Droog. "B-but. I. I did everything."

"You hit me in the face." Droog's voice is calm, though now that Die's looking, he can see a small trickle of blood leaking out of Droog's nose.

"I. That was an accident. I didn't mean-" He goes quiet as Droog slips a card out of his sleeve and suddenly there's a pool cue in his hand. The blunt end presses up against Die's mouth and he quivers, frightened of what Droog might do to him. "I'm s-sorry-"

"If you ever do it again, I cave your head in." It's so solid pressed against his face and Die feels terror at the thought of it coming down on his skull. "Next time, you'll do everything perfectly, and I won't need to leave you like this."

And with that said, he just walks off, leaving Die kneeling on the floor, his pants around his ankles. Die can hear the sound of gunfire from the warehouse and he shakes with terror. They're in there. If the Felt dies, the Midnight Crew will find him again. Droog might not save him this time. Or even worse, he might do it again, and get the 'everything' he promised. But being found by the Felt is equally horrifying. They won't fuck him, but they will remember, they'll always remember that they found Die kneeling on the ground in a dirty alleyway, face covered in cum.

There's another of those moments where time lasts for too long and passes too quickly. Die struggles but he can't get out of the cuffs, or even get somewhere where he could maybe hide. The door swings open and he flinches, expecting Clover or Slick to step through.

It's Crowbar though, stumbling out with his arm bleeding heavily. He clutches at it and glances around, clearly looking for Die. It takes him a moment to find him and Die cringes, body shaking slightly. "Holy fuck-"

"Please don't tell them," Die begs, his voice rough from the fucking. "Please."

"Who- no, not now. We'll talk later," Crowbar hurries over, yanking Die's pants up and getting them zipped and buckled. He produces a handkerchief and wipes his face off, and Die starts crying because this is all too much, and Crowbar's being so nice and he's not making fun of Die. Crowbar shushes him. "Die, are there keys for those cuffs?"

He nods, barely keeping from sobbing out loud. "D-droog dropped them right. Right there-" Die tries to point to them. Luckily, they're bright silver and they stand out against the ground. Crowbar reaches behind Die and undoes them. It's such a relief to hear that snap as they open, and as his hands are free. There's the rattle of a Gatling gun in action, and the sudden bong of a clock as Cans smashes someone forward or backwards in time.

Crowbar helps Die to his feet, just Biscuits stumbles out the door, followed by another Biscuits. One of them looks at Die. "Hey! Hey you never said there was guys coming in!"

"They got the drop on him," Crowbar stops, looking closely at Die's face. "Did Droog hit you? It looks like you have a concussion."

"N- yes," Die remembers to not totally fuck this up, nodding. "He d-did."

"Shit. It's going to be okay," Crowbar gets one of Die's arms over his shoulders, supporting his weight. "We'll get you back. And then we'll get him."

Die nods, but he doesn't believe it. Crowbar can make promises. Droog made promises too. One seems much more likely to be kept than the other.

They make their way to the van, Quarters and Cans covering their retreat. It hurts to sit down. Die feels like shit. He's coming down from his high and he can still taste Droog in his mouth, and it hurts to swallow. There's a list the length of his arm of complaints. And over all of it, leaking in as the high starts to fade, is the horrible crushing shame of having actually gotten off on it.


End file.
